Agape
by magicalriot
Summary: “Hey,” he said softly. “You know I love you, right? And you see, Bones, I don’t need you to tell me that you love me. Cause I know.” A post-Gravedigger session with Sweets forces the partners to admit a few home truths.


Booth ushered Brennan into the room before him, pushing open the door for her.

Instead of her usual insistence that she could open her own doors, she merely lent into him, just a little. Booth touched her waist briefly in response and followed her into the room.

It had been that way since she screamed at Booth until he climbed into the helicopter. She struggled letting him out of her sight and took every opportunity to touch him. Both knew what was happening – but it wasn't a problem to either of them. It was a solution to the fear that allayed them both – the fear of losing each other.

"Hey, guys!" Sweets said brightly. Brennan rolled her eyes at Booth and settled into her chair, while Booth smirked back and did the same.

"Agent Booth." Sweets rearranged a few notes. "How are you feeling after your kidnapping? Any nightmares or difficulty sleeping?"

Booth shifted uncomfortably. "Maybe a little."

Brennan rolled her eyes again. "Try a lot."

Both men stared at her in shock. "What?" she said defensively. "Booth fell asleep in my office." She looked at Booth. "You couldn't stay still."  
He smiled warmly. "So that's why you woke me up."

Brennan looked away. "Maybe."  
Booth touched her hand where it rested on the arm of the chair. "Hey. Thanks."  
Sweets watched their exchange with a satisfied smirk. Despite the fact that it would cause innumerable complications for him if the partners started dating, he was secretly cheering them on.

And sometimes, not so secretly.

"Did your experience have any profound effect on you, Agent Booth?" Sweets asked innocently. Reminded of another person in the room, Booth withdrew his hand from Brennan's and tucked it under his leg.

Brennan opened her mouth to tell Sweets that Booth had seen a ghost, but closed it again quickly as Booth shot her a loaded glance.

"I mean, when people are faced with situations in which there is a chance that they may never see their loved ones again, they often find themselves regretting things left unsaid," Sweets continued, oblivious to the silent communication between the partners.

Booth stretched out his legs before crossing one ankle over his knee. "Yeah, sure, I guess I felt that." He focused on the table between him and Sweets.

Sweets smiled broadly. "Really?"  
"Well, of course, I was regretting that I hadn't seen Parker in a week, and I hadn't talked to him on the phone the night before because I was getting ready for Bones' thing."  
Sweets nodded. "What about you, Dr. Brennan?"

Brennan, who had been carefully analysing her partner's facial expression, jumped slightly. "I wasn't locked in a ship."  
Sweets sighed. "Again with the wicked literal. I meant when the Gravedigger took you? Were you regretting anything? Anything left unsaid, perhaps?" He prompted  
Now it was Brennan's turn to be uncomfortable. "No. I wrote a letter."  
Booth perked up. "A letter? To who?"  
Brennan scowled darkly at Sweets before turning her head to look at Booth. "To you," she said softly.

His eyes widened, taking a small, surprised breath. "Really?" He smiled softly.

"Yes." She looked away.

Booth lent across the arm of his chair. "Can I read it?"

"No!" Brennan said sharply, turning to face her partner. She regained a little composure. "I threw it out, anyway."  
Booth flashed his best charm smile. "So what did it say?"  
Brennan sighed, exasperated, looking down at where her hands twisted in her lap. "It just said not to blame yourself. And thank you, for being a wonderful partner."  
Booth sank a little. "Nothing else?"  
Brennan kept her head down. "No. Nothing else."  
Both Booth and Sweets knew a lie when they heard one, but Booth cut in before Sweets decided to push it. "OK."  
Brennan looked up, uncertain. "Did you write a letter?"  
Booth rolled his eyes. "How, Bones? I was on a shipwreck that was rigged to blow up, filling with water. Not much paper around. And besides," he paused and took a breath. "The people I love would know how I feel about them. Even if I don't say it all the time."  
Sweets lent forward in his chair, enjoying this almost self-propelled therapy session.

Brennan snorted. "How, exactly? There aren't criteria with which to assess the depth of another's emotions."  
Booth looked at her in surprise. "You don't think that someone can know you love them, without you saying it?"

Brennan tilted her head. "Well, yes, but you can't assume that they do know it. That would be presumptuous regarding another's ability to understand inexact indicators."

Booth shook his head, wincing a little. "Cut the squint talk, Bones. You know, I have never heard you tell anyone that you love them. Does that mean you don't care about anybody? I don't think so," Booth said with finality.

Brennan continued, ignoring his tone. "Unlike you, I don't feel the need to tell people how I feel. Love is an ambiguous term, in any case."  
"So why is me showing my affection in an active way worse than not showing it at all?" Booth said, more than slightly confused.

Brennan sighed. "Because you want people to know, but you think that you can show them without telling them!"

Booth noticed how flustered his partner was, her eyes darting around the room. "Hey," he said softly. "You know I love you, right?"  
Brennan looked up in shock, finally meeting his eyes. "You do?" she asked, her voice husky.

"Yeah, Bones. Of course I do. You're pretty much my closest friend. And the best partner I've ever had."  
Brennan kept her eyes locked on Booth's for a long moment.

"And you see, Bones, I don't need you to tell me that you love me. Cause I know."  
Brennan frowned. "I don't - ." She cut herself off, knowing that he had won this argument. "How?"  
He smiled, leaning across the chairs again. "Because you risked your job, risked working with your favourite people in your favourite place, to save my life. Because you were crying in the helicopter. Because you woke me up when I was having a nightmare. Because you tell me things that no one else knows. And that, Bones, is why you don't have to tell me." He lent back with a self-satisfied smile. "I just know."  
Brennan gaped at him, some sort of conflict raging in her eyes.

"Booth…"

A thought seemed to occur to the agent, and he lent across again. "Of course, if you want to tell me… I mean, I have no objections."

Sweets had his eyes locked on the couple like they were actors in the best movie he had ever seen. His eyes widened in apprehension of Brennan's response to Booths very eloquent confession.

Brennan nodded her head briskly, an air of practicality back in place. "I will admit that over the time we have spent together I have developed…" She trailed off at Booth's raised eyebrows. Her expression softened and a slight smile touched her lips. "I love you too, Booth."

They remained that way, inclined towards one another, eyes locked and widening smiles in place, until Sweets decided it was time for him to take control of the therapy session and cleared his throat.

Booth flashed him a grimace. "What, Sweets? Can't you see I'm trying to talk to my partner. Sheesh! Kids these days."  
Brennan sat back, crossing her arms. "I concur. Sweets seems to have very little respect for his elders."  
Sweets rolled his eyes. Confessions of love aside, it seemed that some things would never change.

"Did you know that there are actually six different types of love? Eros, ludus, storge, mania, pragma and agape," Sweets recited.

Booth turned to Brennan. "What did he just say?"

Brennan lent on her elbow. "Eros means romantic love, ludus is something to do with game playing, I've never understood it. Storge is friendship love, mania is possessive love, pragma is practical and agape is…" she looked at Sweets, the definition of the final term escaping her. To Brennan's surprise, Booth stepped in.

"All giving, selfless love. I know that one," his voice was soft.

Sweets watched with glee. "Which category would you best assign to your bond, Dr. Brennan?"  
Brennan scowled at him. "Storge, and I suppose pragma."

"Wait." Booth held up a hand. "You love me practically?"  
Brennan shrugged. "Of course. It is necessary for both of our survival that we care about the other. Therefore it is practical for us to have a bond."  
Booth looked into her distant eyes. "That's bull, Bones, and you know it."  
"Fine!" Brennan shot at him. "What would you define us as?"

Sweets decided to step in. "I would put you into a mixture of eros, storge and mania," he said thoughtfully.

Brennan exclaimed. "Mania? We're not possessive! And we're not together, romantically."

"Possessive or dependant, Dr. Brennan. And just because you are not dating doesn't mean that there is no romantic attraction."

Booth rubbed his eyes, annoyed, confused and getting kind of hungry. To be honest, he thought they were all nuts. "Can't we just let love be love? What is it with you squints?"  
"How?" Brennan demanded, ignoring Booth. "How are we possessive?"

"You get jealous if the other is in a romantic relationship, Booth particularly. You, interestingly, Dr. Brennan, seem to think that none of Booth's relationships will last. Fascinating, but beside the point…"

"You think I can't hold a relationship?" Booth asked, clearly annoyed. Sweets threw up his arms. Could they stay on the same subject for more than two seconds?

Brennan withdrew defensively. "I didn't say it, he did!"  
Booth glared at her. "But is it what you think, Bones?"  
Brennan fidgeted. "I don't think it's just you, actually. I think both of us are incapable of being in a lasting relationship with others."  
Booth frowned, bemused. "Why?"  
Brennan met his eyes. "Because our potential partners always assume that there is something between you and me. And when they ask me to stop seeing you, I know that I'll tell them to get out. And I am fairly certain that you would do the same."  
Booth sighed. "Good point."  
Sweets looked at them in shock. "Wait. So you have both chosen your relationship with one another over a romantic entanglement?"  
Now the partners looked surprised. "Of course," Booth said.

"Many times," Brennan agreed. They shared a glance and shook their heads, dismissing it as a stupid question and not seeing the significance that Sweets did.

The young psychologist sat back in his chair. "You two have exhausted me," he admitted. Booth smirked. "But I have one more question, for you both." The smirk vanished.

"I want you to define the sort of love that you feel for each other, honestly this time, Dr. Brennan. I can remind you of the terms, if you like."  
Brennan froze.

Booth shook his head. "Nope. Cause we're not doing this." He rose from his seat, leaning over Sweets and hissing in his ear. "Cut it out, teeny-bopper, you've already pushed her far enough."

Straightening, he offered Brennan his hand. "Come on, Bones, let's get something to eat." She opened her mouth. Booth cut her off. "Yes, you are coming, no, the bones in limbo can wait and I will personally call your publisher and tell her where to shove that next chapter. And no, we are not going to that vegetarian place. Tofu is not food, Bones."  
Brennan pouted. "Why do you always do that?" She huffed.

"Because I'm hungry, and the sooner we stop arguing the sooner we start eating," he told her with a childish grin. Helping her into her jacket, he glanced briefly at Sweets. "See you next week."

Brennan, jacket now firmly buttoned up, waved distractedly. "Bye, Sweets."

"OK, you can leave now," Sweets called to the retreating couple, where Booth rested his hand easily against Brennan's back. Sweets slumped back in his seat, immensely tired. His favourite patients had a habit of doing that to him.

Walking towards the car, Brennan interrupted Booth's monologue on the merits of Italian food with one word.  
"Agape," she said quietly, sincerity ringing through her tone.

Booth looked down at her, his heart swelling. "Agape," he agreed, meeting her eyes and passing a moment of silent communication.

And then returned to why pizza was preferable to tofu.


End file.
